08-15-2020 08:33 pdt

If you are visiting for the first time, go to the beginning


 read ( words)

"Monday. Yesterday was ok. Garbage, the market, a drive to the city for dropping things off, and then back home. I took care of my usual business, but on and off lost everything due to the cloud and my heart being in pieces and scattered all over the fucking universe. For the most part, I am holding up. Every now and again I do begin to get angry, but then realize it will solve nothing. I have no direction for such an emotion anyway. This situation is the fault of no one. Sometimes I wish there was someone or something at which to lash. I could use a big tantrum right now.

Driving in a little over an hour. We haven't really been organized with cooking since Thursday, so the kitchen pretty much just sits there. I suppose we will get back to a schedule of sorts at some point, but for now I am going to go through the motions for dinner as if nothing changed. I don't know what else to do. Those little things I accomplished yesterday are indicative of my need to find some direction other than standing still. I tried, and for the most part did ok for a while, but eventually ended up on the sofa with a movie. I cannot move sometimes. If this place I am in right now lasts too long, I will shut down. Everything appears different now, as if some great force came down from the sky and scooped possibilities from my future. I am here typing, though. Maybe this is good, maybe not. I already had several slips and problems going on which were taking up most of my time, but now I cannot see clearly enough to work on them. Part of me is missing, and that part cannot return, nor can I seem to put it aside and think. The sky is gray, my head is black, and everything I have set out to do in the coming weeks does not feel very important anymore. I see the other two searching from time to time and then just taking it easy, and the whole thing breaks my heart. Explaining to them what took place is impossible. I just hope they can be ok soon. Me, too. Right now I don't see it happening, though. The routine is smaller today. Good or bad, I have to see it through to completion. Simply sitting here wallowing is not going to help. Repeating yesterday is unacceptable. I was flirting with anger. I knew, though... Nothing there. Nowhere to direct it. Better I keep it away. Pause.

Back from the morning drive. I saw the girl and there were no thoughts other than she dresses very nice. The loss on Friday has left me without any desire or yearning to see forms out in the world. I just don't care right now and do not know how long this will last. The day ahead of me actually looks positive. Two days ago there was none such upward feeling, but now I know I have to keep it together and move forward with whatever I can muster or I will fall down hard and become unable to do anything. I can't have that... Not now. The comfort of home is different without all three here on the sofa, however. Just something I will have to absorb and deal with from now on. Today being the first day alone at home after such a dismal weekend means I have to raise myself. No one else can help or prop me as in the past. I have no available options such as I forcefully created years ago. Something like this would have quickly sent me abroad. I have others to consider. Caring, support, and understanding are now paramount over my instinct to run away. And as I have stated many times recently, I'm stuck here anyway. Everything... All of the resources and options have been removed via bad decisions, leaving me here to myself and those devices which can bring me comfort. I want to lash, yell. Those will solve nothing. I can keep my head up. I can. And I will. He is up there somewhere and watching me. I need to carry myself in such a manner so as to make him proud.

The faces on this page are due to my changing feelings toward beauty. The eyes keep me from dropping into the all-too-familiar obsession and resulting difficulty. In fact, all four issues have been shoved into a very small space for study later. Locked.

This morning could change if I let myself go. Tons of booze on the bar behind me, pizzas in the freezer, the availability of whatever type of entertainment I desire, and the couches, now all clean and sanitized. I could drown into my cocoon so deeply that emerging would be like walking an alien planet. I will not, however, due to both him watching and my need to feel normalcy in the routine. I'm doing laundry already and have plans to care for the floor a bit. I also finally received my knife display and intend to hang it on the wall in the old office. It makes me smile. The drive this afternoon will feel really good if I accomplish some things which need attention, and then arriving home for cocktail hour can feel deserved. If I fall into the booze and heavy lunch, I may lose my way as I did in fifteen. That was bad. Beer cans all over the lawn, broken spirit, and seeing no options other than ending myself to kill the thinking and memories. I am much stronger and clearer of mind these days, and that will help me to keep myself in order and above the depths. Everything is dark right now, but the light can return if I do my best. The sun is shining, I am in mind of the things I need to do, and sitting with this is not putting a damper on my mood as it often does while discussing the issues. If someone had told me that the events of one day could take those issues and shrink them beyond sight, in no way would I have accepted it. Not at all. The truth is that I always had the tools to make them go away for the most part, but needed a push. Given the choice? I would rather have him back along with my problems. But alas, I have to work through this alone. As I said, he is watching, and he comes first.

Every now and then my lower legs tingle as if he is rubbing me with love.

So far things are moving along today. Early this morning I calculated that not seeing the same scene upon returning from the south was going to cause problems, but I am ok, honestly. The other two are on the bed all curled up and sleeping. Usually all three would be on the sofa, but they have been avoiding it for three days. It is understandable. I cannot explain to them what happened. That fact is the most difficult. I can't let them know where he went or why. I understand, and this is the most difficult aspect to having them live here with us. Communication. All we can do is love them and continue caring as long as we can. My little loving companion had an enormous impact upon their lives in this house. He is the only other cat they have ever known, and he was with them daily since they were kittens. He was the center of the circle and now they don't know why he is not here. I cannot help them to understand the way things work, and it hurts me. I am ok because my mind can reason through this, but they must go about their days with a question left unanswered, which will hopefully fade with time. I can't write about this anymore today.

I have the show on in the background and my other tasks await. I will get to them soon. One thing I have been considering since early this morning is the content here. I often go on about my day, the drives, and other activities which lie outside the typical analysis, and the way I feel since last Friday is such that I cannot work on anything else. The entries may become monotonous and boring, though. This is my place, under my complete control, but still there are readers out there somewhere who may be following along. If so, I do apologize. Anyone who has lost a loving pet will understand that I cannot move along the same line right now. Frankly, I am surprised that I can sit here and type with a clear head. Two days ago the darkness was more severe and now seems to have settled. My hope is celebrating his life rather than lamenting the loss over and over. This would actually be easier if I had lost a person. That may sound cold, but the truth is people can speak to each other and discuss situations, unlike animals. They love us, depend upon us, and fill our lives with joy just like people can, but there is no understanding when something is wrong. Damn it. I have to stop. If you get bored, I fully understand.

Oy, the subject keeps returning. Perhaps I cannot avoid it right now. I am sorry. Stop.

Tuesday has arrived whether or not I like or agree with the passage of time. Above, I said I need time to pass, yet other days I wish not to end. Maybe the world is simply confusing me right now. I thought I would be in trouble by the end of the previous month, but it seems everything is fine for the time being. I was worried for days. Now much better. Today means driving in a little while, going through my familiar and comfortable routine, and then I can work on whatever is most pressing. Yesterday proved to be a little down. I did not really go outside the norm, but the laundry took quite a bit of time. Today I can finish a couple of nags. Still waiting for two more key chain items to arrive. They are both coming from abroad, and right now the wait is excessive. It's ok, though. Anticipation can be enjoyable.


Kate on the television from sixteen years ago. And Hugh.

And the period of no issues (or less pressing, anyway) has come and gone. That is it. Too bad, because I felt rather free there for a little while. A terrible thing happened and put pieces of me into perspective and order, but alas everything turns to shit. Two, four, whatever. I don't like it at all. Yesterday afternoon was fine, even when I saw the girl in the parking lot and waved to her with a smile. She's adorable. All of that is gone now, but I still like to be kind. I'll always wave. There was another girl who has been borrowed from a different location for a while. She strolled to her (very nice) car with breasts bouncing the entire way. Oversized for her frame. I watched and felt nothing. Cute, boobs, car, gone. And then I did not even think about the incident. I brought it up here because between yesterday and today my feelings have returned. I seem to be nearly where I was before Friday. At least this is nothing new. As much as I would like to believe that I can rise from those problems, the truth is that no matter what takes place in my life, they will eventually take over. Pause for the drive.

God damn fuck anyway. I was thinking early this morning that I should not drive, instead choosing to remain at home all morning. In the interest of retaining my routine of the last several months, I drove anyway. Well, that went bad. Very bad, to be sure. Standing in the parking lot near the coffee house, I saw lots of activity. People in and out with their quick mobile orders, some waiting outside keeping distance from others, and then my head exploded beyond belief. This is four hours later now and the woman is still walking through my head. I just could not believe my fucking eyes. During a morning in which I was already ripe with issue four swirling and attempting to maintain my composure along with hoping that the day would be full enough to keep it away, there she was... Very tall, dressed completely in black with nothing hidden by loose clothing, and four-inch Greek heels clicking along has her unreal frame stepped to the door. Long, wavy black hair in the breeze and every single detail between her beautiful face and those Goddamned heels aligning with all of my dreams. An enigma above all other enigmas. And I have seen sights that would bend a person's mind into a pretzel, Andrea included. In fact, she resembled the angel in too many ways for me to describe. Two issues immediately slammed my brain until it was in need of being wrung out. I still see her all these hours later and after completing my daily business. Flared, no understanding, yearning for that elusive and wondrous fulfillment, and in the end completely broken. I guess gushing about the last few days has changed exactly nothing within me. Everything was there, from obsessing over her appearance and gait to so much fucking desire that I could have walked into the ocean to cease the feeling. I was overwhelmed more in those few seconds than I have since meeting the Raven at Val's. This is a problem of galactic proportions. I may indeed be so far beyond help that there is no possibility of returning.

Another vast wasteland veiled by darkness.

The drive back was bracketed by Howard Shore, thank Christ. Sometimes when I start the car and select my phone for music playback, the audio controller automatically shuffles all titles. It kind of drives me batty at times, but choosing something to override the shuffle is simple enough. On this particular morning, a track was chosen for me from the soundtrack of a film. Well, that prompted my head to remember something deeply moving, so I played it twice on the ride. Holy crap. The piece of music is so majestic, soaring, and powerful that I just had to repeat it. That used to be a headphone composition, but oy my hearing has suffered throughout years of such behavior. I was immediately reminded of the feelings from my old cave (that essay is gone, so don't look for it) while I painted or worked on something enjoyable. Lots of projects back then. The cave was the longest period in which I truly had my own space. I still miss it, and I really miss the feeling of being there and having everything under my control and configured the way I wished. Unfortunately, I will not mention the title or film here because I simply cannot have it being played out of the proper context. Such a thing is completely unacceptable. That song is one of the most moving, emotional pieces of music I have ever had the pleasure to hear. At nine and a half minutes, it could only be played twice during the entire trip. Heh. The point is that I was able to rise a measure after being nearly destroyed by the sight of yet another fucking woman. Had it not been for the chance reminder of that music, the morning could have gone radically worse. I may have headed out of control, completely. Now I am in mind of the film -- along with two others -- and may have to settle in this weekend for viewing. They are by far the most important films in existence, to me. They relate to a time I can never get back. I listened with the beginnings of tears, and then arrived home and fell into the routine with my brain overpowered by the sight in the parking lot. I fail to understand why such an event continues to cripple me.

The remainder of the day went ok aside from one large issue which gripped me and supplied enough unclear thinking to allow me to be weak again. I am fucking sick of it. I will remove the problem by force if it persists. Drive again. Pause.

And Wednesday has arrived whether or not I like it.

The evening was comfortable despite the recent change in mood. Everything still feels fragile, though. I am a little scatterbrained today. The sight yesterday and then music which lifted me out of the din for a while are still combined inside me. That woman was likely the pinnacle. This morning there is a movie starring Bruce that I have never seen nor heard of, and within is a slew of beautiful women related to the character's business. One is like an assistant and stands over him by at least two inches in the office. There are others at parties and such. I have no idea what is going on because the volume is low, but I may come back to this film another time if it is interesting. Seeing the tall women all over his office reminds me of the parking lot. The height thing has been secondary lately, after the overall look, and I know why it comes up from time to time. They just stand out. My primary issue has applied to women of all heights, and several recent characters on television have helped to cement such a feeling. The goddess, as well. I mentioned proportion several times and it is holding up against the tide. This film does help me to realize that not all on the screen is as it seems upon first glance. The magical industry of which I often speak can do anything up there, and regardless of the idea that I seek the actors to learn of their heights, the bottom line is everything retains a relative position with respect to the camera eye. Height diminishes when placed next to an example of beauty or whatever a person feels is physically attractive. The woman who brought me to stop cruising the guide is not terribly pretty, but seeing her walk through the office with a very confident expression is amazing. That is something which only comes about due to the atmosphere being fictional. Otherwise, she would be just another tall person walking from here to there. Height as such is everywhere. The height over which I gushed is radically different and no longer appears as it did in the past. Whereas then I would stare and feel as if a woman was more beautiful due to her being so lengthened, I now know seeing an example of exaggerated height and features is the same as my appreciation for a truck with a long wheelbase. And since I brought up the truck, I remember a story.

Many years ago while shopping for a trailer, we looked around and different configurations and weighed the pros and cons of each versus cost. One of the ideas was to go full-tilt toward a very large fifth-wheel trailer along with enough of a truck to both pull and stop it. We spoke of different ideas daily. Well, one night during the period in question we went to dinner with her sister. One of my favorite restaurants which included a lovely bar and lounge area. We sat at an elevated pub table and discussed whatever came to mind. Her sister inquired of the status of our search for the ideal truck/trailer combination, to which I replied that we were inundated with options. Too many choices meant a difficult decision. She then asked if we had considered using our current truck with a mid-sized trailer. No, I told her. We had been leaning toward something larger and selling the truck to get another with more capacity. And then she asked about the truck I wanted. That was the bad part. I told her I wanted the longest possible truck. Four doors, eight-foot box. Longest. She proceeded to smile and look at my partner with one pinky finger extended, as if to ask if I needed to compensate for something. Yep, one of those women who believe everything in a man's life is related to one particular part. So, without blowing up at her in the restaurant and ruin and otherwise nice meal and visit, I quieted down as my partner took issue with her sister's gesture. I sat and enjoyed my appetizer without a word. Eventually I was addressed again, so I flooded her with a ton of information which resulted from me studying about towing and the safety measures related to the same. I went into the physics of the relationship between the front axle to pin versus rear trailer axle to pin, turning radius, and wheel-cut. I also threw in the mechanics of straight-line stability with regard to the distance from the truck's front axle to the trailer's front cap, along with weight distribution along the truck's wheelbase combined with the ratio of the truck's gross weight versus the trailer's gross weight. Well, that left her without words. I had been studying to ensure that our shit-ton of money was not going to be spent on an unsafe combination. That was that. The subject was closed for the evening because I slammed the door with facts in an attempt to get her to cease thinking that I was the male image in her head and lumped into everything she had been led to believe, instead being an actual person with intelligence and feelings.


A possibility which was brought to my attention later that year was that I had been relating height and length to one word which comes up often when people discuss beauty... 'More'. More to see, more to touch, more to whatever-the-fuck. Honestly, I don't know. I have never believed that by appreciating and obsessing over tall women meant I was compensating for something. The only relationship I can comment upon was a friend of mine and his girlfriend at the time. She was two inches shy of six feet (a model, actually) and stood three inches over his head while barefoot. He loved it and had no problem being near her despite the height difference. The one thing he did bring up on occasion was the length of her fingers. They compared themselves, palm-to-palm, and her fingertips stretched beyond his. While he and I were alone, he once mentioned that it seemed somewhat disheartening considering how society can link various body parts to one another. I remember his reaction seemed silly and we both laughed a bit, however all these years later I do wonder if there was something more serious going on inside. She was very thin -- having walked the runway for more than one agency -- and carried very little weight compared to her height. As a result, her appendages were all very exaggerated. I do not believe there was anything more discussed at the time, though. Her beauty was the subject of conversation between him and me almost daily. Only now do I wonder if he felt anything damaging. The conversation and subsequent concern over my partner's sister relating my desire for a long truck brought it to mind this morning. The idea of the fragile ego and comments which can have lasting effects has already been covered (somewhat), but here you can see the possible ramifications of differing views.

I have begun the daily chores but paused to sit with this and continue my thinking. Yesterday I noticed water in the bathtub after I washed dishes, and having partially reconfigured the waste lines in the wall and under the house, I know where things go and why. Right now the tub and kitchen sink are joined and run straight into the main. When I did the work two years ago, I had not the time to replace very much so I focused upon the flow which had the most issues. Now, the toilet, laundry and bathroom sink are separate before the main. The only issue seems to be my connection to the original waste line from the new. The fittings on the stack are up against each other, so changing one means they all must go. I can do that, however it will take time and planning, plus leave the house with nonfunctional drains for most of a day. That will take some calculations and probably help. As a result of the stoppage and my understanding of the functions, I can limp along and then clear it possibly later today or tomorrow morning. My old boss is going to drop off a machine which will most likely alleviate the problem and leave us with clear lines until I can replace everything. Now when I wash dishes, I must be careful and give the line time to seep slowly until the drains are empty before showering or running the kitchen sink. If I had not worked the better part of a decade as a plumber, this would be perplexing and I would likely have to call someone. That means lots of money and a lack of understanding anything a service might tell me. I am not worried at all, just cautious. I know precisely of the issue and how to deal with it. Very good.

The drive this morning yielded nothing of note aside from the cutie I see quite often. The more I look at her, the more I feel that she is undeserving of the wrong type of thinking. This morning? Nothing aside from appreciation for her as a person. I started caring that day when she was without the mask. I may soon cease looking entirely.

I keep thinking of the beauty yesterday in the parking lot near the coffee house. Extracting her image from my head has been impossible thus far as she resembled the manner in which Andrea used to walk before me. I want to go back there and see her for a longer period of time but cannot. She is gone, and I miss her. Like Jaime, the idea of feeling something for her is apparent, and I am not referring to her outward appearance. Some of it, yes, but overall I want to look at her face. Therein lies the problem. Issue one is expanding. I am becoming obsessed with the connection between a woman's soft eyes and my need to drown into her arms for understanding and comfort. There is nothing else in this world which can compare to the feeling while wrapped by Andrea or Natalie, or even Ashley. All of it can be summed into one question: For what am I searching? I don't know, but one thing that nags at me is the idea that the object of my obsession is not a woman's features, but an idea of who she is and how she can save me. The radii are there, always, however I do not believe that if the miracle of actually carrying out the project from years past and numerating a woman's shape comes to fruition, nothing will change. The inside of me will not be satiated. I will keep going, just as I am right now. The image from yesterday is bringing all these things to mind now, and I am unable to organize or understand just what I may need. If it is the endless warmth and solace brought to me by those women, I fear the dream and search are impossible and will eventually destroy me.


I successfully prepared the floor in the old office for my mat and drum framework. The latter is now on the workbench and cleaned. I am going to get it in there and then bring in the trigger pads one at a time after cleaning them as well. Once everything is in the office, I can take my time routing wiring and getting all of the pads in place. This is a big step and I am happy to see it progressing. I did not realize at the time, but moving my old table into the garage has yielded many options, one of which I am exercising now. By the afternoon drive I should have all the components there and ready to go further. I also have to go through the freezers a little to inventory our proteins for planning meals. Since the outset of the pandemic, we have diligently kept track of everything just in case the shit hits the fan worse than it did in March. Sitting here a week short of five months from that time makes me realize that the seriousness has not gone away. People may react in a panic if there is another shelter order. The last time? Nutcases buying up toilet paper as if there was a mass case of the runs. Heh. Anyway, keeping the staples organized means we always know what is available and can plan accordingly. I have already addressed the freezers a little, and will have the whole works done by early afternoon. Other than that, little things here and there will occupy both my time and mind and hopefully keep my brain out of that woman's fucking underwear. Hopefully.

Jesus fucking Christ in a padded bra, the pair of breasts carried by this beauty on the show. Holy shit.

I have not gone into the machine dream much lately due to the saddening recent events, but rest assured it is more powerful than ever, and the need more apparent. There is simply no other way of finding the peaceful comfort that I desire. Examples of it are everywhere lately, most pointedly the morning of the angelic form across the parking lot. I still see her a bit and cannot believe she was there. Like all of the others, she will fade with time and I'll forget details. I guess it doesn't matter, though. There is nothing out there for me anyway... No machine, no eyes to beam through me and solve all my problems, and no arms to wrap me and take away the past. Nothing. Jaime was Jaime, and then she disappeared, and then I discovered the images again and fell all over myself. The very idea of her being such a dream turned her into an idea that I now know was just another fucking mistake. I should have left it all alone and shut the hell up about what I needed. The exposition throughout months since seeing her again has accomplished nothing at all. I feel the same, operate in a similar manner to before the sheltering, and sit here now as a product of the past that I thought was bad. Now I see where I was. I will never be there again. I knew nothing of a machine during those intervening years since learning of the Cherry 2000 and did not consider what may have been necessary for me to find what I needed. The manner in which I saw everything was vastly different. Very different, for sure. I don't know how or why I changed this much, but I see it now. Not good.


Thursday has arrived, for whatever it may be worth. After yesterday's pitfalls and perils, I do not need a repeat. I have to take care of some things this morning before the drive, and then I can return and do the usual. All bad yesterday, beginning with the waste line issue, continuing through my trying to deal with so many problems at the same time, and on into the afternoon when I could not calculate a tenth of my purpose in this world. I believe a part of the drop later in the day was due to the aforementioned composition I rediscovered and played over and over during the drives. It reminds me of the movies, that entire period shortly after the millennium, the film industry dreams, and the idea that I was in a fairly strong position in life. Those years went by (three, in fact, as the films were released a year apart), my position continued to slowly improve, and at some point the films became lost in the shuffle of daily activities. Well, the cave period of eleven brought them back to me. I do not know what reminded me of them, but it may have been seeing the extended edition box set in the store. I spied a golden cover and looked to see what was different from a regular package. I soon realized that they were something special and pushed me to recall those days in the Midwest when I sought the director's cut version of several films in order to see more of them, like longer running times and new scenes. The films in question ended up much longer (nearly an hour each) and I became immediately enamored with the set and grabbed it. Watching on my computer in the cave was nothing like experiencing the magic of the Century Theatres (which is a story in and of itself, so I will not go into it very much) when they were first released, but still I loved them and became so obsessed that I watched all three in a row more than once per week. I was thrown by all of the extras and information on production, and after seeing everything I fell on my face. The dream of film had all but left me and then became reignited while alone during those fateful months. The feelings, smells, and sounds of being back in that huge theater all slammed back into my head as I approached the tunnel with Shore's thundering peak of a composition. Right off the edge of the fucking planet with my feelings again. I missed all of it and began to lament where I am now. And I do not like it one bit. I believe what took place yesterday afternoon was a drop caused by my dissatisfaction with the decision-making processes exercised by me for more than a decade. Things were stable, comfortable, and there was little worry over where I might have been heading in life. Now? Sort of stable, somewhat comfortable, and with much concern over the future. What did I accomplish by coming here? Cooler weather? Well, whatever I ran from and to no longer exist, and I am left to try finding a path into the coming years which will be at least somewhat satisfying. Fulfilling? No way, that is impossible. Comfortable? Maybe at times. Free of excessive worry? I have no fucking idea. Right now my focus is to avoid too much of the sentimentality which grips me during some of that music. I need to keep myself organized and try to deal with the distinct possibility that there will never be any happiness at all and my efforts have been futile since the beginning. The films now stand as a striking representation of all that I had which was disregarded, shoved aside, or otherwise thrown away like so much trash. Maybe I am right where I deserve to be.

I am in the dark.

The evening went by as always... Cocktails and dinner, an episode on the television, and then off to sleep. Now I am sitting here and the whole thing is beginning again, yet earlier. I don't need this. Pause for the drive.

Well, after the return home I went back out to secure a machine for clearing the issue with the drain line. While out, I continued to listen in earnest to the music from three different films. I realized that while the memories of those times do hurt, the music is not at fault. That should be obvious, anyway. I enjoyed the majestic and powerful beauty of some of my favorites and the trip flew by. Upon arriving, I immediately took to the drain work as best I could. The stoppage cleared fairly quickly, and then putting the kitchen drain back together made me realize that I had inadvertently glued the plastic disposal arm to the trap adapter. It's no big deal, but made getting the trap back in one piece a bit of a chore. One of these days I will have to replace it, perhaps the next time I have occasion to work in there. I also need to plan the stack fitting replacement. That will take more effort, but I've done it in other homes in the past, many times. Tough work under the house.

Friday morning means more of this along with the routine which brings me comfort. I still have coffee, so sitting here for a while seems a good idea right now. Many aspects of life have been going through my head since rediscovering the composition which stirs me to dream of my past life. I had quite a bit of trouble over it yesterday, and when combined with the necessity of getting the tub and kitchen sink draining, I ended up drained as well. The evening was comfortable and very welcomed. This morning's drive was uneventful aside from the surfer girl smiling at me. That was a quick little pause to see if she and others were going to cross the highway. She waved me past and we both smiled at the same time. Jesus fucking hell anyway, that girl is adorable in every way. I immediately continued up the road with a head full of her face. Damned cute. Her smile was disarming and made me realize that I am just as weak as in years passed. Just a look is all it takes for me to wander all over the place with my dreams. Within seconds, I wanted her ass on my face, and I realize how that must sound. But I cannot avoid the image of her all over me. One of those... The sight leading to desire almost immediately. It's a problem, however a manageable one, still. Those surfing instructors are out there several times a week, which means I will likely see her again and dream. Thank goodness the other dreams at night have not visited me in weeks. I've had nighttime dreams, just not anything involving a woman or a mansion. I don't miss them, and the daydreaming when I see a woman of note is plenty to deal with these days.

I did see the girl in the parking lot but nothing took place inside me other than admiring her very professional appearance. This is good.

Jeri has enormous eyes. Half-machine, that one.

After yesterday's fiasco and subsequent cleaning spree, I am glad to be home with the usual tasks and whatever else I wish to accomplish. I intend to continue working toward the drum kit's new location in the old office. Two days ago I finished cleaning the floor and placed my new mat down, along with the freshly-cleaned framework. I also have the kick and high-hat triggers in place. After the routine stuff this morning I should be able to get all of the other trigger pads on the frame. After that, I will need to spend time adjusting everything to my liking and then wire it all. Two years of owning that kit and I've only sat behind it on a handful of occasions. Heh. The entire room looks different now, too. The decision to build and office in the garage has benefited many aspects of the house. So far, so good.

Susanna is still stunning even with Borg Queen makeup. You should see her without it. Holy shit.

And nothing for a while. Today is Saturday and I am still in the muck. Whatever took place the other day is still happening and I can tell this condition is going to remain within me for quite some time. That pungent combination of the film scores and memories drives me into the ground from time to time, yet on this particular occasion everything flowed into my head at once. I cannot go into detail, but suffice to say that eleven is returning. Yes, I feel that bad now. Let me go into yesterday.

The morning was fine aside from a shitload of humidity. Clouds overhead kept the sun from heating the roof and patio cover too much, and for quite a few hours. I was able to get some things done before taking a break for lunch. Shortly thereafter, the sun made its appearance and then the goddess visited to watch a movie. I broke out the room circulator and dropped the shade, so the living room did not thermally inflate too much. All the while I had been considering the road conditions on a hot Friday and began checking on the drive time. By my departure, I learned that the highway along the coast was socked in pretty well and the map told me to go the long way around the barn. Well, one hour later and I was at my destination still ten minutes early. I was looking forward to getting out of the car and stretching a bit, but alas she was finished early. Back to the road with the coastside temperature indication of ninety-two. I believe readers here are already aware of my climate preference so I can refrain from going on a tirade. On the way back -- a direct, and forty-minute shorter ride north -- we stopped into the market for a few staples. The parking lot was packed due to the beach across the road, but the store was empty. Aside from movie time, that was the single first positive to my afternoon. Upon reaching home, I noticed the mercury topped out lower than expected. Not bad. Overall? I would not wish a repeat of yesterday.


I do not have need to drive the car at all today, and that is such a good thing that I can almost smile. The heat will continue (I believe the consensus is today will be the top of the hill before tempering) and the beaches will most likely be crowded again. People are not being particularly intelligent by flooding the coast due to the temperature. There has already been a bit of a back step after the first plan to reopen some businesses, so those dipshits out and about would be better avoiding crowds. For myself, the plan is to remain here and do my best in keeping the house as cool as I can as we head toward early afternoon. By some point I will be helpless to change it, so a little effort may help the evening. This also means anything I need to do must be fairly early. Yesterday while the clouds were still overhead, I successfully cleaned and set up the remainder of the kit, partially adjusted all the pads, and am pretty pleased with my effort. I also moved some things out of my car which have been sitting for months. The new office has suffered a little due to organizing other areas, but the idea of it being in the garage means the space is transitional. I use it on and off for storing whatever needs to be relocated and then head out there sometimes to clean up. I may do some of that today. I mentioned that memories and past happenings in my life succeeded in pushing the four issues aside. Also, the loss in the house of my little companion shoved every fucking thing aside for days. Well, they are returning. Two seems to be the least of my worries right now. One and then four. Three? That took place just a little while ago while glancing at this movie here and there. It's kind of funny, one of those I would normally avoid, but not bad for something in the background. Other than the language and some off-putting mild violence, there are funny moments. Eventually I will steer away. Three is the least of my worries these days, anyway. The first two are the examples which have the power to take me off my feet completely and leave me a pile of nothingness. I certainly hope that later today they leave me alone. Adding them to the heat is adding insult to injury. I do not intend to let everything go to hell today. I have to keep my head up as much as possible. THe afternoon could possibly turn into more of this while sitting with the circulator pointed right at my head. Heh. And I need to work on keeping cocktail hour as late as possible. The numbing effect sounds good at the outset, but we know I will not be well under that influence.

This should have been finished and published by now. Unbelievable. So much to say, but often no drive to get it to the screen.

Without the time sitting in the parking lot yesterday, I saw nothing. Even the drive back north along the beach areas was no big deal. I was hoping to get home smoothly, including the market. Sometimes going in there is like a fucking fashion show. Shopping carts on the runway. At one point just before checkout, I had to leave because I felt a coughing fit approaching, and these days coughing in public is not good, mask or otherwise. I dashed out to the car and had some water, realized my mask was goofed up a little (my fault) and eventually worked it out and felt better. I had to get out of there quickly, too. I will not be the person who has a fit in a grocery store. That is not good right now. Sitting in the car and awaiting her returning with our staples, to my left appeared a problem... An Asian problem. Well, in one way. A couple approached the car and had a bit of a conversation about getting the keys off her lanyard. Even with a mask, I could see she was some sort of combination and very beautiful. I don't mean anything specific, either. Just overall, an image of beauty that could have been in a pageant or something. They discussed the keys, placed their things in the trunk, and then strolled off to my right, hand in hand. Those words I overheard were very cute, as if they knew each other extremely well and likely for a very long time. As they walked out of frame, I saw the silhouette of her against the backdrop of the facade and realized she was stunning, and as I said... Not lines, lips, or anything like that. Just a beautiful woman. I cannot adequately describe her so I will stop. Suffice to say, the feeling of hearing the manner in which they interacted, combined with the look of her partially-golden hair in the sunshine, I was completely floored. No desire, no nothing. I was not looking at specific features, but I saw plenty. A thought entered my head and was one of the worst feelings I have ever experienced, but I cannot go into it right now. There is too much going on already. I brought up that couple due to the morning smacking me in the face like I could not believe. I may come back to the thought later. As for the morning... Here we go...

I have seen the dog walker on several occasions throughout the last few months, but never more clearly than yesterday. For the first time in memory, she walked on my side of the street and directly before my eyes, no sunglasses and no mask. Just before my head exploded at the sheer exaggeration of every curve, I saw her face. Well, that is the end of that, and I'm glad I spied her more clearly tan ever because now the entire situation is finally within context. She is too young for me to be considering as a part of the obsession. And now I can no longer comment upon her looks or anything else. The fact is I am better off. From what I have seen at a distance, my eyes are going to rest without viewing her anymore. I had no idea.

Wow Eiza has such a face, but I think her chest has been puffed up for the movie. Damn. This film was shoved at males, anyway, so it doesn't matter. In the dark, just like everything else. Her eyes (as usual) are key. For whatever reason, I am not threatened by the male lead. I know not why. Normally I would run to the remote and rid myself of the image. Hmm.

Already I feel the warmth. Just after seven in the morning and the sun is hot. Oy, I will have to maintain awareness of the airflow inside as the temperature rises. This is unusual for being so close to the ocean, but it does happen a few times per year. An inversion of sorts, when the stream flows in the wrong direction and brings the shit over the hills. And then all the people who live over there come here to get in the water and clog up the city's roads. Whatever. The beaches are for everyone, although some feel that due to the virus they should be closed again. Me? I don't know what is right or helpful in this situation, but people need to be careful right now. As I was saying, the warmth is already apparent. Today is going to be somewhat of a test and reminder of living in the flame years ago. I do not miss it.

The heat notwithstanding, other aspects of my personality may be a problem today. Four has already flared and I stopped it, however I still feel weak and needy just as in days passed. Two is fine, one is a little difficult, three being the only absent enemy right now, yet still I am concerned over thoughts today. I have to remain upright or the combination of issues and weather will drive me down. I began Thursday with music which dredged up all manner of difficulty, rose from it, and then fell again while driving to get the machine. I did not hold the music responsible (even as out of balance as I am these days) and instead tried to understand the idea of accepting where I am. That may be the biggest pill ever. I may put on the almighty films later when I am unable to do anything else. Regardless of the problems involved, I still look to them with wonder and admiration. I can't help it, just too fucking epic in scope. Nothing can help me, so I may as well embrace anything comfort-related, right? I might fall down, though. There is no knowing right now. Those three stories are of very few which involve nothing that bothers me. Not even the memory of girls screaming when Orlando hit the seventy-four foot screen eighteen years ago. That was before two existed, honestly. And I can't help but think that on some level I identify with one of the characters. That may sound far-fetched, but I'm not certain. I've seen them enough to have intimate connections to several in the films. I know them well after all this time.

Look at the eyes all down the page. Do you see? Especially the first image sans makeup. I still don't know from where it originated, but to see such a face without anything covering it is unreal. Sometimes eyes look huge because they have been manipulated and exaggerated by makeup (very common these days), but still there are pairs out there which are huge anyway. I could drown in the feeling of seeing her like that. She reminds me of Juliette's big eyes all full of tears and looking at me as if I was the one person in the universe who could save her. I need that again and it no longer exists. I will dream until such time as I can take no more of the loss. The eyes... Just like the girl in the parking lot, there is so much there that I cannot even scratch the surface. Ugh.

Maybe one day the eyes will save me. Without them, there is only darkness.

Everything is dark, there is very little good, and my happiness has flown away."